


your pancreas

by dojaegay



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Coming of Age, Discussion of Death, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Lee Taeyong-centric, Like constantly, M/M, based on the novel/manga/anime
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-18
Updated: 2019-08-18
Packaged: 2020-09-06 17:04:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20294980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dojaegay/pseuds/dojaegay
Summary: There’s only one thing on his mind lately. It haunts him, torments him, visits him in his sleep. Taeyong grips his phone tightly, pressing it to his chest. The screen is unlocked, the messaging app open. The contact information says “Nakamoto Yuta”, as well as an endless row of messages exchanged between the two of them in the last few months. It’s the last one, though, that keeps Taeyong awake at night. It was sent by him--and left unanswered--, and he can’t help but wonder if Yuta read it before... well, before.It’s simple, only six words. The syntax is basic, the grammar elementary.I want to eat your pancreas.It’s burnt into the insides of Taeyong’s eyelids.





	your pancreas

**Author's Note:**

> This is based on a Japanese novel, manga and anime. All rights go to the original author.
> 
> [Here](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL-VR3cqxtqu9zj7jzLQ4sAXUnwu_ndT3E) is the anime's beautiful soundtrack!
> 
> This was beta read by my best friend, [Tahlia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainyjaem/pseuds/rainyjaem)!

The rain collides against Taeyong’s window in loud but rhythmic strokes. Thanks to the street light that stands just a few meters away from the house, the raindrops cast a strange, shapeless shadow on the opposite wall. Taeyong stares at it, in a trance, and for a second, he thinks he recognizes a face amongst the meaningless shapes that the droplets draw. Nakamoto Yuta. 

Taeyong doesn’t attend the funeral.

There’s only one thing on his mind lately. It haunts him, torments him, visits him in his sleep. Taeyong grips his phone tightly, pressing it to his chest. The screen is unlocked, the messaging app open. The contact information says “Nakamoto Yuta”, as well as an endless row of messages exchanged between the two of them in the last few months. It’s the last one, though, that keeps Taeyong awake at night. It was sent by him--and left unanswered--, and he can’t help but wonder if Yuta read it before... well, before. 

It’s simple, only six words. The syntax is basic, the grammar elementary. 

_I want to eat your pancreas._

It’s burnt into the insides of Taeyong’s eyelids.

膵臓

Everyone loved Yuta. Taeyong could not remember a second in the 3 years they spent in the same class where Yuta was unaccompanied. Constantly surrounded by his ever-expanding group of friends, Nakamoto Yuta was what many would consider a social butterfly.

Taeyong was nothing if not the exact opposite. 

The concept of friendship was completely foreign to him, something he’d only experienced through paper, inside the hundreds of books he devoured. From his uncomfortable seat in the farthest corner of the classroom, Taeyong watched silently as Yuta let out a loud cackle and slapped his best friend’s shoulder. 

He’d never had that much interest in him, if any at all. Their paths had crossed by incident--something Yuta would later refute; in his books, nothing happened by accident. 

It had been a regular Saturday morning, and Taeyong had walked to the hospital to get his stitches from his appendicitis surgery removed. 

The waiting room was big and full of chairs. They were mostly empty, only a few of them occupied by elderly couples and young mothers with coughing children. Taeyong approached the emptiest area, ready to wait in silence, entertained by his novel only. 

That’s when he saw it. 

“A book?” He murmured aloud. 

On one of the plastic chairs, said book laid abandoned, probably forgotten by its owner. Drawn by his passion for books, Taeyong walked towards the chair before tentatively stretching his hand out and clasping his slender fingers around the mysterious book. It was wrapped in a leather cover to prevent damage, but it took Taeyong only a couple of seconds to unwrap it. 

The book was titled _Living With Dying_. Taeyong gasped loudly, causing a few curious heads to turn and stare at him. 

Blushing madly due to the unwanted attention, Taeyong took a seat and opened the book, unable to contain his curiosity any longer. 

He opened it to the first page. 

_November 23rd, 20XX_

_I have decided to start this journal as a way to cope with my sickness without alerting my friends and family. From now on, I will write everything I feel and experience here, related to my sickness or not. This is why I chose to title it “Living With Dying”. _

_No one except my family knows that I only have a few years left. _

_The pancreatic disease I suffer was referred to as “the king of all diseases” until not too long ago. Once it was diagnosed, patients used to die shortly after. _

_Nowadays, the advanced treatments help prolong the lifespan, but it only delays the inevit--_

“Excuse me.”

Taeyong lifted his head so fast he could have sworn he heard his neck snap. Before him stood his most popular classmate, Nakamoto Yuta. 

“I believe that’s mine,” Yuta said with a warm smile, pointing at the book in Taeyong’s hands. 

Taeyong’s eyes travelled from the book to his classmate in a loop for a few seconds. 

“What are you doing in the hospital, Sober Boy?” Yuta’s chirpy voice interrupted his derailed train of thought. 

“Uh, I underwent surgery for my apendicitis a couple of weeks ago and I came to get my stitches removed,” he answered truthfully, unsure of what to say. He couldn’t tell if what he had read in the diary was true or just a work of fiction, but the truth was that Taeyong was absolutely dumbfounded. 

“Oh, that’s nice,” Yuta sang as he sat on the chair next to Taeyong. “I came to get my pancreas checked, because if I don’t I could die.”

Taeyong gaped at him in utter shock before gulping loudly.

So it was true. 

Beside him, Yuta was still smiling just as brightly, as if he hadn’t just shared a piece of very intimate information with Taeyong, who was almost a stranger.

“Surprised?” Yuta asked, leaning into Taeyong’s personal space. He pulled back slightly, intimidated, although not enough to miss the smell of Yuta’s hair—it was surprisingly feminine, fruity and soft. “You shouldn’t be,” Yuta continued. “I saw you reading that. You must know by now.”

Taeyong swallowed again, feeling a lump in his throat as thick as a rock. How could it be that someone like Yuta—so full of life, eager to experience everything the world had to offer—was actually closer to death than anyone Taeyong had ever met?

“Y-you… you’re joking, right?” He stuttered, flustered due to Yuta’s proximity.

Yuta stared at him for a while, his dark eyes boring into Taeyong’s even darker ones. It was the first time Taeyong had seen his classmate with such a serious expression on his handsome face, which was usually adorned with his trademark smile. 

It only took a few seconds of tension for Yuta to yield, breaking into a loud fit of giggles that resonated through the entire room. It earned them dozens of ugly stares, as well as a shushing sound from the receptionist. Yuta covered his mouth with his hand, bowing slightly as an apology, but his body continued to shake with silent laughs.

“You really think I’m _that_ twisted?!” Yuta asked, once again speaking much louder than was socially acceptable inside a hospital. “I would never joke about that!” His statement was serious, but his face was still shining with amusement. “I _do_ have a disease and I _am_ going to die.”

“Oh,” was all Taeyong could reply, still in shock. “I see.”

Yuta looked at him expectantly, his eyes twinkling. After a torturous minute of silence, his eyebrows shot up and he gave Taeyong a puzzled look. “That’s it?” He asked, confused. “That’s all you have to say?” 

Taeyong felt a chill run down his spine. “O-oh, well, I’m sorry?” His tone was uncertain and his voice shook like a prepubescent child’s.

“Right,” for some reason, Yuta flashed him the brightest smile since they had started talking. “In any case,” he spoke as he stood up, his private journal in his hands. “Thank you for taking good care of this. I can’t even imagine the shame if anyone else had found it!” Before leaving, he placed one hand on Taeyong’s shoulder, grabbing his attention. “Please, don’t tell anyone about this. Only my family can know. And now so do you, I guess.” And with that, he left, turning around as he walked away to wink playfully at Taeyong.

That was his first conversation with Nakamoto Yuta.

膵臓

As was expected, he didn’t easily forget about it, but Taeyong figured that would be his first and last interaction with the most popular boy at school. Why would someone like Nakamoto Yuta want to associate with someone like Lee Taeyong?

He couldn’t have been more wrong.

“Good day, Mister Classmate Who Knows My Secret!” He heard Yuta’s chirpy voice behind him, way too cheerful for that time in the morning. Taeyong turned around to see Yuta hopping towards him, waving at him with a perfectly manicured hand. 

“I thought you wanted it to be a secret,” was Taeyong’s response, his voice characteristically monotonous.

Yuta snorted. “Of course I do,” he said it like it was something obvious, and he hadn’t just been screaming across the hallways about it a mere minute ago.

“Why were you screaming, then? Anyone could have heard you.”

“You see,” Yuta crossed his arms playfully, like a professor or lecturer would. “Most people wouldn’t know shit until it hit them in the face,” he shrugged. “The more obvious I am about it, the less likely they are to find out. It’s reverse psychology.”

“I don’t think you’re using that term correct—”

“In any case!” Yuta changed the subject with his usual bright smile, but Taeyong didn’t miss how it was a little bit strained. “Did Mr. Do not tell you?” Taeyong shook his head slowly. “We’re going to be working together! I’ll be your assistant librarian!” He opened his arms as if he were expecting for Taeyong to jump into them, but the other teen simply stared at him with a blank expression on his face.

Their school’s library wasn’t exactly what anyone would call a “popular hangout spot”, which was precisely why Taeyong liked it so much. When he was there, his only company were the books, which—in his opinion—could hold a much more interesting conversation than most humans did. Taeyong couldn’t understand why someone like Yuta, who was popular and pretty and sociable, would ever want to lock themselves up in a place like the library. Yuta was loud and downright hyperactive, two traits that would drive any librarian insane. 

“Why would you want to work in the library?” Taeyong voiced his concerns. “Do you even like books?”

“Look,” Yuta linked their arms by the elbow and started dragging Taeyong towards their workplace. “Indulge me a little bit, will you? After all, I’m going to die soon.”

Taeyong gulped.

As it turned out, there couldn’t have been a job less appropriate for Nakamoto Yuta than that of a librarian. Yuta was one of those people that liked to talk for the sake of talking, coming up with superficial topic after superficial topic. Taeyong decided to make him push the book cart, while he grabbed the books and assorted them in their respective shelves. Eventually, Yuta got tired of watching him from the main aisle, so he started to help with the books as well. At least, Taeyong liked to think he was helping, but he’d have to ask whoever was in charge of the next day’s shift to check if all the books were in their assigned shelves, and no historical novels were in the shoujo manga section. 

A moment came when Yuta finally shut up, picking up books and placing them in silence. His expression was serene, Taeyong thought. There was a calmness to organizing, he guessed. Something about letting your arms and legs do the work robotically helped calm their restless, hormonal brains. 

But the silence didn’t last long, broken by a simple sentence that would change Taeyong’s life forever. 

“I want to eat your pancreas,” Yuta suddenly spoke up, his voice more plain than Taeyong had ever heard it before. 

_Is he talking to me?_ Taeyong thought, and he couldn’t help but shiver slightly. 

“Have you awakened your inner cannibal or something?” Was his reply. He continued to organize the bookshelf mindlessly, choosing to ignore the tension in the air. 

Yuta chuckled, and it was as if everything had returned to normal. “I saw a documentary on TV the other day,” he started to explain. “Apparently, there were tribes long ago who believed that in order to cure a dying organ, you had to eat that of an animal’s. Bad stomach, eat a stomach. Bad liver, eat a liver. I don’t know the reasoning behind it but assuming it is true...” 

He made a dramatic pause. 

“_I would like to eat your pancreas._”

After school, Yuta insisted on walking together after their paths diverted. Taeyong indulged him, as he had asked, but he planned on staying silent unless he was spoken to, which was a stupid decision, because Yuta constantly spoke to him, asking him mundane questions and chatting his ear off.

“I know that the library isn’t exactly the place where I fit in the most,” Yuta said as the walked out of the school, their dress shoes clicking against the pavement rhythmically. “But we all have things we want to do before we die, right?”

Taeyong frowned. “And one of them is working at the library?” He asked, sincerely intrigued.

Yuta laughed loudly. Taeyong noticed that he was one of those people that laughed with his whole body. His shoulders shook, his back contorted and his legs tripped on each other. After he was done with his laughing fit—which Taeyong had no idea where it came from—he brushed his dark bangs out of his face, turning to look at Taeyong with a spark in his eyes. 

“Yes, working at the library was at the top of my bucket list. And also, making a new friend,” he winked at Taeyong, punching his shoulder playfully.

_Friend_? They’d known each other for two days! Taeyong wasn’t exactly experienced in this friendship thing, but he knew that you needed to bond some more before you could ever call someone a friend. Although, he was beginning to realize that applying logic to any of Nakamoto Yuta’s actions were utterly useless. That boy was an enigma, a completely unpredictable ticking time bomb. 

“Speaking of friends,” Yuta spoke up after a short silence. “Meet me at the station tomorrow, 11 am.”

Taeyong gasped. “Uh, I-I… Saturday, I’m busy—”

“You have something on Saturday?” He looked genuinely upset.

“Y-yeah, I have a date—”

Yuta smiled knowingly. “So you’re free then? Cool! You know when and where to meet me,” he pulled out his phone to mark it in his calendar. “I’m excited! I’ll even write about it on my journal,” he teasingly elbowed Taeyong again.

After that, they thankfully continued to walk in silence. Taeyong stared at the road, as he always had, but his eyes eventually shifted to their feet, which wore the same uniform shoes. He wondered, as he watched Yuta’s shoes shine with the reflection of the Sun, how many more times the Japanese boy would walk down this path before—

“Well,” Yuta suddenly interrupted his thoughts. “This is where we part,” he pointed at the crossroad with his chin. “I live across the bridge,” the residential area situated across the famous green bridge was well known for its high standing and economical power. “See ya!” He ran away, waving at Taeyong while the other boy rubbed his abused shoulder.

Couldn’t that boy ever walk?

膵臓

That Saturday, Taeyong arrived half an hour early. He stood in front of the time table, a book in his hands. He had--correctly--assumed that Yuta, being the loud airhead that he was, would be late to their appointment.

So when Taeyong saw him running in his direction, backpack flopping behind him, he couldn’t help but sigh loudly in annoyance. 

“Hey!” Yuta’s greeting came in a loud shout. He was still a couple meters away, waving like crazy as if Taeyong could ever miss his loud running and flashy clothes. Yuta’s style was the exact opposite of Taeyong’s, but it reflected his personality almost perfectly: loud, bright, and fun. Taeyong, however, preferred discrete, monochromatic clothing, which allowed him to blend in so effectively one could almost say he disappeared. 

“You came!” Yuta said as he caught up with Taeyong. He was a little bit out of breath, and his face was covered in a thin layer of sweat, which made him glow under the Spring sunlight. 

“Of course I did,” Taeyong frowned, putting his book away. “We agreed to meet up, didn’t we?”

Yuta smiled endearingly. Taeyong tried to picture his face without that ever-present grin, but he found it impossible. It was as if he had never seen Yuta without that trademark smile plastered on his handsome face. 

“Sometimes people dump each other, even if they had made an appointment previously,” Yuta explained to him. 

“They do?” Taeyong couldn’t wrap his head around that fact. “Why?”

Yuta laughed again and linked his arm with Taeyong’s skinnier one, dragging him away from the station. “Oh, Sober Boy. We’re gonna have so much fun together.”

The place Yuta chose for lunch was a traditional Japanese restaurant specialized in meat. Taeyong didn’t have any preferences when it came to food, so he simply followed Yuta inside silently, mimicking him when he took his shoes off before sitting at their table. The restaurant offered a buffet option, which Yuta ordered for the both of them without hesitation. It took him seconds to start digging into his food as soon as it was brought to them, muttering a rushed _itadakimasu_ before stuffing his face with all types of meat. Taeyong let him chat his ear off as he ate silently, replying with snarky comments every now and then. 

“Perhaps all the energy your pancreas needs goes to your stomach instead,” he commented as he watched Yuta engulf his third bowl of rice. 

The other boy choked, letting out huffed laughs that turned into wheezes once his throat recovered.

“Well, well, what have we got here?” He pointed towards a plate full of meat with his chopsticks once his giggling fit was over. Neither of them had grabbed a piece from it yet. Yuta picked one, holding it up in between them with a sly smirk on his face. “_Suizou_,” he said in Japanese, and although Taeyong didn’t speak the language, it didn’t take a genius to understand what Yuta meant.

“You mean…”

“Pancreas, yes,” Yuta answered his unasked question before shoving the entire piece in his mouth. “Ah,” he moaned after he swallowed. “Delicious.”

“Is that part of your treatment?” Taeyong inquired, curious. 

Yuta snorted. “No, I just like meat.”

“So you have no diet plans or restrictions?”

Yuta shook his head. “Except for the regular hospital visits, I live a perfectly normal life. I go to school, hang out with my friends, and play video games just like any other teenager would.”

Taeyong nodded, although he wasn’t very convinced, but instead of pressing the topic further, he chose to stare at Yuta silently as the other continued to stuff his mouth with food. 

“Ugh, I totally miscalculated the amount of food my stomach could handle,” Yuta eventually admitted, moaning in pain as he hugged himself, attempting--and failing--to alleviate the pain.

“Yes,” Taeyong agreed as he glared at the stacks of empty plates that stood in between them on the table. “You did.” He poured Yuta some water before asking, “so what will we do?”

Yuta gulfed down the entire glass in one go. “I don’t know, you ask some weird questions… Maybe you’ll become a writer and I’ll watch over you after my--”

“No,” Taeyong cut him off before he could say something stupid. “I mean after this,” he gestured at the two of them as well as the restaurant, using his bony hands. “What are we doing?”

“Oh!” Yuta’s eyes widened in realization. “We’ll just take a walk, then go home. I’ll call you again in a couple of days.”

“Don’t you have other friends you want to hang out with?” Taeyong was genuinely intrigued as to why Nakamoto Yuta had decided that the two of them should be thick as thieves from then on. 

“Of course I do,” Yuta said as they walked out of the restaurant. The temperature outside was perfect: not too warm and not too cool. Just perfectly balanced. However, there was a soft breeze in the air that continuously ruffled Yuta’s dark locks, giving him an almost ethereal look. Taeyong couldn’t believe he was looking at someone who was so close to death, when he looked so--for lack of a better word--alive. “But you’re the only one I can be my true self with.”

They walked in silence for a while, simply enjoying the scenery--it was Spring, and they lived in the countryside, which meant that they were surrounded by the most vivid tonalities of green. 

“To be honest,” Yuta suddenly spoke up, startling Taeyong. “I’m starting to believe it was fate.”

“What was?”

“Us,” Yuta looked at him straight in the eye, a playful glint in his almond eyes. “Our relationship, the way we met… I had never talked to you before less than a week ago and now you’re the only person apart from my family that knows my secret.”

“It wasn’t fate,” Taeyong shook his head, frowning slightly. “It was mere coincidence.”

“Huh,” Yuta’s knowing smirk had returned. “For a person who reads so much you sure have a very limited imagination.” 

As soon as Taeyong got home, he dropped his tiny body on his bed unceremoniously. Never in his life had he felt this type of exhaustion before. If an entire day outside meant feeling like his bones were melting then he would lock himself up for the rest of his life. After all, it had been working so far. 

His phone buzzed in his pocket, interrupting his self-pitying monologue. He dug his hand into his jeans’ pocket, pulling the device out. The screen lit up with a new message. 

_From: Yuta-kun_

_hello mr. typical classmate!!! i hope im not bothering you :3 i just wanted to thank you for today, i had a lot of fun. i had forgotten what it felt like to hang out with a friend without the suffocating burden of a secret as heavy as your impending death. ahh, im getting dramatic. anyway, i hope we can hang out again soon!! see you around x_

Taeyong found himself smiling ever so slightly, Yuta’s kind and honest words bringing a healthy red color to his cheeks. He replied quickly. 

_To: Yuta-kun_

_See you tomorrow._

膵臓

Taeyong should have predicted the consequences of associating with Nakamoto Yuta.

Gossip seemed to travel fast in small towns, and even faster within teenagers. By the morning after that first lunch shared together at the meat restaurant, everyone at their school knew they had spent the previous day together. 

Taeyong opened the door to their classroom, only to find dozens of pairs of eyes staring directly at him like he had grown a new head. He did not voice his confusion, of course, choosing to frown and walk to his seat silently like he had been doing for the past eleven years of his life. But no matter how invisible he tried to make himself, the others saw him more clearly than they ever had before. This had never happened to him. 

“Is that the guy that--”

“I heard he and Nakamoto kissed!”

“Someone told me that Nakamoto picked up the job at the library just to be with him.”

“Good morning!” Yuta walked into the classroom, as chirpy as ever. He had his trademark smile plastered on his face, and his jet black hair was mussed from the bike ride. 

The classroom fell into a deafening silence, all heads turned to stare at the young boy who had just walked in. It didn’t take long for Yuta to realize. 

“Huh?” His eyebrows shot up in puzzlement. “What’s with this mood?”

“Uhm, Yuta,” a classmate with a gentle voice and kind eyes called Kun walked up to Yuta. “What’s going on with you and Mr. Typical Classmate?” 

Yuta chuckled warmly. “We’re close.”

_WHAT_?! The back of Taeyong’s neck started sweating, but he refrained from voicing his shock. The others, however, did not. They all turned to stare at Taeyong again, who pretended to have spotted the most interesting dust particle on their window. 

“What are you talking about?” A much less kinder voice interjected. It belonged to a tall but impossibly skinny boy, Yuta’s best friend. His name was Doyoung. 

“Uhm, Mr. Classmate,” Kun spoke up again, this time directly to Taeyong. “Are you and Yuta close?”

Taeyong gulped. “Not particularly,” was his honest answer. “We just met by coincidence a couple of days ago.”

His classmates started chatting amongst themselves again, most definitely making up their own theories as to what Yuta and Taeyong’s relationship was exactly, but Taeyong couldn’t care less. 

He was about to go back to his book when his eyes caught Yuta’s. He was looking at him with a sad expression on his usually cheerful eyes, but it lasted for a couple of seconds before his group of friends demanded his attention again, giving him his beautiful smile back. 

Class was as uneventful as it always was, and Taeyong was ready to go home and bury himself in his book like he was used to, when he heard a familiar voice call for him from the other side of the hallway. 

“Mr. Typical Classmate!” Yuta walked up to him with his bag in hand, ready to go home too. “There’s something I want to do before I die,” he smiled mischievously. 

Taeyong gulped.

“This is what you wanted to do?” 

Yuta nodded, his mouth full of cake. His face was glowing with satisfaction and his lips were covered in icing. 

“Isn’t this paradise?” Yuta asked, far louder than what was polite inside a restaurant. “And it’s an all-you-can-eat too!”

“You’ll put them out of business before the evening ends…” Taeyong muttered as he watched his classmate engulf yet another piece of carrot cake. “But couldn’t you bring someone else?” Taeyong asked Yuta, fighting the bright blush that had tainted his cheeks. 

The restaurant was blindingly pink and feminine, and clearly meant for couples. Everything was covered in hearts and pearls and lace, and the music was slow and romantic. 

“Nope,” Yuta replied, pronouncing the ‘p’ with a pop of his plump lips. “You’re the only one I can be my true self with.”

Taeyong sighed, knowing Yuta was right. He was starting to wish he had never picked up that damned diary.

“Come on, don’t be like that,” Yuta kicked his shin under the table playfully. “Let’s be good friends until I die!” 

Taeyong rolled his eyes, but he didn’t want to be the person to deny a friendship to a dying man. “Fine,” he gave in, picking up the tiny fork and digging into the chocolate cake. 

Yuta grinned happily. “So,” his tone had switched to a playful one, and he was holding the fork in between his teeth. “Do you have a girlfriend, Mr. Typical Classmate?”

“Alright,” Taeyong made the move to stand up, but Yuta stopped him before he could with a hand on his shoulder.

“I’m just kidding!” He assured Taeyong. “I just feel like I know nothing about you.” 

Taeyong shrugged. “There’s nothing to tell.”

“Oh, come on, that’s impossible. Everyone has stories to tell.”

Taeyong shook his head. “I don’t think that’s true.”

Yuta frowned, running a hand through his silky hair. “You don’t?”

“No. I think the majority of the world’s population are just like me: nobodies. We exist simply to exist, we take nothing from the world and we give nothing either. Our lives are completely meaningless.” He took a sip of tea, and Yuta said absolutely nothing during that silence. “But of course there are exceptions, like you. People with special stories to tell and lives who will leave a mark on the world.”

For a few minutes, there was no response. Taeyong was starting to wonder if Yuta had gotten tired of talking to him already when he suddenly spoke up again.

“What you just said,” he was clutching the fork painfully tight, “is very insulting.”

Taeyong looked up from his plate, perplexed. “Insulting?”

Yuta’s jaw was clenched with repressed anger. “You think I would ever associate with a nobody? Who do you take me for?” 

“I-- Well, I’m sorry,” Taeyong didn’t know what else to say.

Yuta blinked a couple of times, recovering from his moment of weakness. “No, it’s okay. I’m sorry for snapping,” he rubbed the back of his head awkwardly. “I just don’t understand why you’re so intent on pushing me away. I’m trying to befriend you, you know.”

Taeyong grimaced. “I don’t think I’ve ever had a friend.”

Yuta frowned deeply. “That’s impossible. Everyone has had at least one friend, even if it was as a toddler.”

Taeyong wiped his mouth with an embroidered napkin. “Not me, at least that I know of. Books have always been much more appealing to me. They don’t hurt me and I don’t hurt them.”

Yuta scratched his chin. “I guess that’s true. Messed up, but true.”

Taeyong shrugged. “It’s my reality,” he pushed away his plate, full and ready to go home. “By the way, this might seem weird, but do you have a partner? I wouldn’t like to get in trouble with them for being here with you.”

It was Yuta’s time to blush. “Well, I did have a boyfriend, but we broke up a while ago.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah…” Yuta’s eyes were glossy with memories. “We worked better as friends than as a couple, anyway. You might know him, he’s in our class.”

Taeyong shrugged. He never paid that much attention to his classmates. 

“Yeah, his name is--”

“Yuta!” Another voice interrupted their conversation. With a sour expression on his face, Doyoung was approaching their table. It didn’t take him very long, what with his long legs. “Hello,” he greeted them, not so friendly, once he reached them. “What are you doing here with him?” He asked Yuta, pretending Taeyong wasn’t there.

Yuta narrowed his eyes. “We’re having cakes. Why don’t you sit with us?” He suggested, pushing the empty seat beside him with his foot. Doyoung took the bait, taking off his backpack and dropping himself on the overly decorated chair. “This is my friend Doyoung,” Yuta explained to Taeyong. “He’s a bit rude, but don’t take it personally. He’s rude to absolutely everyone.” 

Doyoung huffed, but his eyes were full of affection when looking at Yuta. “Yuta, be honest with me. Are you and this guy close?” He continued to act as if Taeyong wasn’t sitting within an arm’s length. 

“I already answered that question when Kun asked me this morning, didn’t I?” 

Doyoung clenched his teeth. “When you say that, you mean he’s your…” He didn’t say the word, but they all heard it. 

“Why does it matter?” Yuta stabbed a strawberry with his fork. “So what if he is?”

Taeyong shivered. _What was Yuta implying?_

Doyoung didn’t seem too happy to hear that either. “Yuta, we’ve talked about this before. You made an irrational decision when you broke up with Johnny. He was a great influ--”

“Doyoung,” Yuta cut him off abruptly. “I think Ten is waiting for you,” he pointed to the short boy standing beside their bikes, right in front of the window. So that’s how Doyoung had known where they were. 

Doyoung stood up violently, kicking his chair. “Fine,” he said, sounding exasperated. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” And with that, he walked away. 

Taeyong stared at his broad back as he walked away, while Yuta focused on his plate again, acting as if what had just transpired was a normal occurrence. 

“He’s scary,” Taeyong admitted after a while. 

Yuta laughed loudly. “He is, but he’s also my best friend since before we could talk.”

“Wow,” Taeyong was impressed. He didn’t even know such a thing was possible. “Then why haven’t you told him?”

“About my sickness?” Taeyong nodded. “Well, as much as Doyoung likes to pretend that he’s a tough, heartless rock, he’s quite the opposite. His attitude is a defense mechanism, because Doyoung is, in fact, very sensitive. If I were to tell him the truth about my situation, he would never stop crying. We could never be the same again.” He swallowed loudly before saying, “I don’t want to lose him.” 

“You’re really dying,” Taeyong pronounced it as a question, but it was phrased like a statement. 

“Yes,” Yuta answered. “The doctors gave me a maximum of two years.” He drank a bit of water before continuing. “That’s why I want to keep my illness a secret from my friends, so I can live those two years to the fullest with them. And now that I have you, I can also be honest with someone. I won’t lie, pretending for so long was nothing if not painful.” He flashed Taeyong the warmest smile he had ever seen. “That’s why I’m so thankful for you, Mr. Classmate. You ground me.”

Taeyong gulped, but he couldn’t help the fire from spreading across his cheeks.

膵臓

“Hey, weird kid,” a boyish voice said behind Taeyong.

He looked up from the floor of his classroom, which he was mopping, to find one of his classmates looking at him. The boy was tall and thin, and had an aura of fake confidence that Taeyong was used to seeing on boys their age. He couldn’t remember his name, but he had a unique face—handsome, but still kind of childish, with chubby cheeks and soft, fuzzy skin—that was difficult to forget. 

“What is it?” Taeyong inquired.

“Are you dating Nakamoto?” The boy bluntly asked, but the question did not take Taeyong by surprise. This had to be the fifth time he’d heard it that week.

“No,” he simply answered. He figured he didn’t need to delve deep into the intricacies of his and Yuta’s relationship when the boy probably wasn’t expecting him to. 

“Really?” The boy continued to prod. He was chewing on some energy bar and the crumbs kept falling onto the freshly mopped floor. “You did go on a date the other day, right?”

Taeyong sighed and rolled his eyes. Would this be his life from now on? Just answering his classmates’ nosy questions? “Why do you care?” He replied rudely, expecting his tone to finally drive the kid away.

“I don’t like him if that’s what you think!” The boy denied the unasked question. “I really don’t, I was just curious!” Every time he said so, it became less believable. 

“It doesn’t matter,” Taeyong argued. “Whatever any of us say, it doesn’t matter. People will believe what they want.”

“I’m sorry,” the boy apologized, looking genuinely upset. “Do you want one?” He offered Taeyong an energy bar, which he declined with a slight smile.

“Could you do me a favor?” He asked the kid, who nodded fervently. “Could you clean the mess that you made?” He pointed at the dirty floor around his feet, covered in energy bar crumbs.

“Oh!” The boy’s eyes widened in realization and he quickly ran to get a broom to clean up with. As he swept the floor, he gave Taeyong a dimpled smile. “My name is Jaehyun, by the way.”

Taeyong nodded before going back to his task.

膵臓

The days following exam week were always some of the strangest for Taeyong. He always had a difficult time adjusting to the sudden change of pace, from relentless to slowing down to almost a halt. He went from not having enough time to having way too much, but he tried to fill it with as many books as he could.

Now, though, he had different plans.

_From: Yuta_

_hey there! i know you’re probably busy reading an entire library or whatever it is that you do after exam week but i was wondering if you’d like to go on a trip with me?? it’s just a train trip, nothing too serious. call me once you read this pls!!_

Taeyong sighed before typing his reply.

_To: Yuta_

_Whatever you want to do is fine by me. I wouldn’t want to get in the way of your bucket list._

He didn’t have to wait very long for an answer.

_From: Yuta_

_you’re funny lol but yes!! let’s do this!! i’ll text you the details later_

Taeyong threw himself on the bed, letting out a soft groan. What had he gotten himself into?

膵臓

“Mr. Classmate!” Yuta waved energetically from the entrance to their town’s modest train station. He was wearing what could be called _travelling clothes_: loose-fitted jeans, sneakers, a red hoodie and a backpack. “Good morning!”

Taeyong rubbed his eyes, sleepy, and grimaced at the violent sound of Yuta’s overly enthusiastic voice. “Why did we have to meet so early?” He complained, face still puffy from sleep.

“We have to exploit this trip to the fullest!” Yuta explained while he rummaged through his bag. “By the way, where’s your change of clothes?”

Taeyong felt his blood run cold. “Change of clothes?” He repeated, making sure he had heard that right. 

“Ah, don’t worry, we can get you some there,” he finally pulled out what he had been looking for. “Here’s your ticket.”

It took him only a second to read the bold, big letters on the front. “Seoul City?!” He yelped. “But it’s so far away! Are you sure we can get back within the day?”

“Who said we were going to?” Yuta winked at him. As if sensing Taeyong’s uncertainty, he also added, “come on, don’t be a party-pooper! You wouldn’t deny a dying kid his wishes, would you?”

Taeyong rolled his eyes, but allowed himself to be dragged into the station. 

Soon enough, they found themselves on the train, which was almost empty except for them and a couple of salarymen. Yuta pulled out a pamphlet and started pointing out stuff to do, almost buzzing in his seat from excitement. “I’ve never been to Seoul before, have you?” He asked Taeyong, who shook his head. “Oh God, I’m so excited! This is gonna be so much fun!” He continued to babble on about the different restaurants he’d already made reservations for.

“I don’t know how I’m going to pay you back,” Taeyong voiced his concerns after a few minutes of wondering.

“I told you not to worry about that,” Yuta shook his hand in the air, as if he were swatting away Taeyong’s worries. “This is a trip! There’s no time for mundane worries!”

“More like a kidnapping,” Taeyong muttered, focusing his attention on the view outside the window. Strangely, he recognized the scenery around him. Yuta must have seen the realization in his eyes, because he leaned in to look out the window as well. 

“That’s where the hit and run happened,” he commented, his big almond eyes taking in the view. “You know, where a girl was stabbed and left to die.”

“Oh, yeah,” Taeyong remembered the story. He’d heard it on the news a couple of days ago.

“It must be terrible to die all of a sudden,” Yuta pondered. “Imagine all those days wasted in doing nothing that could have been spent in cool plans, all because you weren’t aware that you would die at the tender age of 17.” He opened the pamphlet again, as if the topic he was discussing was completely casual. “That’s the one thing about being on the verge of death I’m thankful for,” he confessed, lifting his gaze from the paper to look directly into Taeyong’s eyes, drilling them with much more wisdom than what was expected of a teen. “Being aware of my own mortality means being aware of my own life. That’s why we’re here, on this train, instead of at the river bank or café like every other teenager in our town. Because _I_,” he pointed at himself, “am going to die, and I refuse to leave this world without having experienced at least some of it.”

Taeyong gulped, unsure of what to say after Yuta’s confession disguised as a speech. 

“By the way,” Yuta continued to speak, but the somberness from earlier was completely gone, instead replaced with his usual playfulness. “There is something else I want from you before I die.”

Taeyong nodded. “Of course. What is it?”

Yuta smirked. “Your name.”

Taeyong’s doe eyes widened with realization. “Oh! Yes, uhm… My name is Taeyong.”

Yuta extended a hand in a gesture that was far too western for the both of them, but Taeyong still shook it. Yuta had surprisingly soft hands, given how firm and steady his grip was. He was an athlete, after all, the captain of their soccer team, and Taeyong had not been expecting his hands to feel as gentle as they did. 

“Nice to meet you, Taeyong,” Yuta smiled genuinely. 

“We’re here!” Yuta shouted excitedly once they jumped out of the train, earning them some ugly stares. “I think I can smell ramyun!”

Unsurprisingly, he took hold of Taeyong’s wrist and dragged him around the station until he found the ramyun restaurant. 

“There’s one thing I’m curious about,” Taeyong said while they waited for their food. 

Yuta snorted. “Just one?”

Taeyond nodded innocently. “How did you manage to convince your parents to let you go on this trip? I assume they’re not that comfortable with letting their sickly son run around without supervision.”

Yuta shrugged. “I told them I was with Doyoung. My parents try to stay out of the way of my bucket list plans. But I admit going on a trip with someone I barely know might be crossing a line, so I had to lie.” He poured himself some cold water before asking, “and what about you?”

“Me?” 

Yuta grinned, amused. “Yes, _you_. Who else? What did you tell your parents so they’d let you come?”

“Oh,” Taeyong drew shapeless figures on his fogged up glass. “I’m used to lying to them. That’s what I’ve been doing my entire life.”

Yuta frowned. “What do you mean?”

“My parents think I have friends, that I hang out with them when I’m in the library instead. Right now, they think I’m attending a sleepover.”

“Wow,” Yuta seemed taken aback. “That’s mean.”

Taeyong shook his head. “On the contrary. I don’t mind being alone, but I know they would if they knew. So this way no one gets hurt.”

Yuta didn’t have the chance to argue. Their food was ready.

Soon enough they found themselves again on a train, whose destination was completely unknown to Taeyong. He’d stopped asking questions and started following Yuta blindly long ago—perhaps since the first time they met.

Sitting comfortably beside him, Yuta scribbled on his diary. Taeyong was starting to suspect that, apart from being a coping mechanism, the diary had become some sort of will or farewell letter—something that his family and friends could keep and treasure long after he was gone. 

“Are you writing about me?” Taeyong asked him in an uncharacteristic show of boldness.

Yuta laughed softly. “Of course.”

Taeyong clenched his jaw, uncomfortable and flattered at the same time, somehow. 

The rest of the day passed by quickly, especially thanks to the relentless pace Yuta set for them, dragging Taeyong from one corner of the city to the opposite until the poor boy felt like his bones were made of jelly.

“Oh, look,” Yuta pointed at a small building hidden between the trees of the park they were walking through. “A café. Wanna check it out?”

Taeyong shrugged, which was his way of agreeing.

Inside, the café was mostly empty, but not enough to be uninviting. A waitress led them to an empty table near the window, and Yuta ordered for them. “Two green teas and a lemon cake.”

After the waitress left, Taeyong wrinkled his nose and voiced his disgust. “Lemon cake?”

Yuta shrugged. “I’ve never tried it.”

Taeyong doubted that ‘lemon cake’ was an entry in Yuta’s bucket list, but he pressed the issue no further.

As expected, they both found the cake disgusting, which meant they spent the rest of their stay sipping tea and chatting.

“Hey! Watch where you’re going!” The comfortable chatter was disrupted by a high pitched screech. A middle aged woman was glaring daggers at the poor waitress, who bowed in shame. 

“I’m sorry,” she said with a small voice.

The woman shoved the girl. “You think ‘sorry’ is gonna pay for my ruined shirt?”

Taeyong knew what was going to happen before it did.

“Hey!” Yuta stood up from their table, approaching the two women in confident strides. “That’s enough,” he told the screaming woman.

“It’s not my fault she’s useless at her job—”

“It was you,” Yuta argued, positioning himself in between the other two. “You kept waving your hands in the air and hit this poor girl!”

It was true, all the customers knew, but none of them said anything. 

“Whatever!” The lady gave up, collecting her stuff with dignified mannerisms. “I’m never coming back!” She declared before storming out of the café.

The waitress deflated, releasing all the pent up tension. “Thank you so much,” she bowed again, this time for Yuta. 

Yuta shook his head. “No need to thank me. Anyone would have stepped up.”

But no one had. No one except him. Yuta, energetic and full-of-life Yuta, who was also barely a year away from death, did things Taeyong could never even dream of. Perhaps it was due to his imminent death, as he had explained earlier in the day, but Yuta lived fearlessly and, despite being in a precarious situation himself, put others before him. Taeyong admired him, but he also couldn’t help but envy him for it. 

“What are you smiling for?” Yuta pointed out as he sat down again.

Taeyong’s eyes widened. He hadn’t realized he had been smiling. “Nothing,” he shook his head, hiding his blush behind his cup of tea. “Just remembered something funny.”

膵臓

“I’ll check us in!” Yuta informed Taeyong once they entered their far too fancy hotel, way too enthusiastically for someone who had just spent an entire day running around a huge city.

Taeyong dropped himself on a couch, already starting to savour the peace that would come with his individual room.

He checked his phone briefly to make sure he had no missed calls or texts from his parents, and when he looked up it was to find the two receptionists bowing shamefully in front of Yuta. The boy turned his head to look apologetically at Taeyong, a full crimson blush on his usually confident face. 

“Uhm,” Yuta walked up to Taeyong with measured steps. “There was a mistake and—”

“Don’t tell me…”

“They gave us one room with a queen-sized bed.”

Taeyong groaned, throwing his head back. “I’ll just find another hotel,” he stood up, ready to leave.

Yuta wrapped his hand around Taeyong’s wrist, trapping him. “Where do you think you’re going? You have no money on you! Let’s just check out the room and decide.”

Taeyong sighed. He should have known by then that he had no choice when it came to Yuta. “Fine.”

Thankfully, the room came with a comfortable enough couch as well as the promised queen bed. It was luxurious enough to have a glass window with an amazing view of their capital, as well as a huge television and a fancy bathroom.

“Sleeping together here will be so fun!” Yuta sang as he threw himself on the bed, face first.

“What?!” Taeyong yelped. “We are not sleeping together on the same bed! I’m sleeping here,” he announced, sitting on the big sofa.

“You’re no fun,” Yuta complained. “Don’t you think it’s exciting?” He stood up and walked towards the window, standing so close to it his nose almost bumped into the glass. “To be all alone in a room with a boy, so far away from your parents that there’s no way they could ever find out about tonight.”

Taeyong blushed madly. “Who do you take me for? I’m a gentleman.”

Yuta let out a loud chuckle. “Of course you are.” He stretched like a cat before saying, “I’m going to take a bath.” And then he added with a wink, “no peeking.”

After Yuta closed the door of the bathroom behind himself, Taeyong let out a sincere sigh of relief. That obnoxious, flirtatious, and brave boy would be the death of him.

Then the water started running. Taeyong couldn’t help but imagine Yuta in the bathtub, his milky skin, raven hair, toned athlete body…

Desperately, he turned on the TV and upped the volume until the noise of the bathtub was only a faint buzz. 

“Mr. Classmate!” Yuta’s melodic voice penetrated into the main room through the door, breaking Taeyong’s last thread of patience. 

“What now?” He asked, turning off the television. He was clearly irritated, but if Yuta noticed, he chose not to point it out.

“Can you fetch me my foam cleanser, please?” Yuta sang from the bathroom. Taeyong could picture him perfectly, body soaked and hair damp from the steam, sticking to his forehead and framing his handsome face like a painting. 

He shook those thoughts from his head as he walked toward Yuta’s bag, which he had previously left on the bed. 

With only a bit of hesitation, Taeyong unzipped the bag and _oh_. 

Sometimes it was easy to forget the reality of Yuta’s situation when he seemed so full of life. 

The bag was filled to the brim with pills, syringes and more of the sort. Taeyong felt himself grow light-headed at the sight. 

It hit him all at once. _Yuta was going to die_. Soon, from the looks of it.

“What’s taking you so long?” The other boy whined. “It’s a dark blue bottle, hard to miss.”

Taeyong dug his hand into the bag and pulled out the cleanser, backing away from the bag as soon as he had the bottle in his hand, almost as if it had burnt him. He ran to the bathroom and opened the door just enough to stick his hand inside and throw the bottle in what he could only guess was Yuta’s direction. 

Yuta giggled, amused by Taeyong’s flustered antics. “Thank you,” he sang, before adding, “I’m naked right now, by the way.”

Taeyong slammed the door and ran towards the bed, where he threw himself face first, much like Yuta had done before. He buried his reddened face in one of the fluffy pillows, but the embarrassment soon gave way to a different feeling: realization. 

For the past few weeks, Taeyong had been turning a blind eye. Perhaps it was Yuta’s own personality and way of handling his sickness, or perhaps it was the fact that everyone else except him was unaware of that part of Yuta’s existence, but that did not change the truth. And the truth was that Yuta…

**Yuta was going to die.**

Once Yuta came out of the bathroom, Taeyong replaced him. He sat in the bathtub for far longer than necessary, trying to rinse away the stress from earlier, sadly, to no avail. By the time he stepped out of the bathroom, the city had been completely swallowed by the dark night sky, and his skin was steaming. 

“That felt good, didn’t it?” Yuta smiled at him from the cozy lounge set in front of the bed. He must’ve ran to the convenience store on the corner while Taeyong was in the shower, because he had set a plastic bag on the coffee table and started pulling out different soft drinks and bags of chips and candy. “Look what I got,” he said smugly, lifting a glass bottle and showing it off as if he were in a commercial. 

Taeyong walked up to him and took the bottle from Yuta’s steady hand. After examining it closer, he let out a sharp gasp and stared at the other boy with wide eyes and a slack jaw. “This is alcohol!”

Yuta nodded, a sly smirk on his face. He seemed proud of himself. “Indeed. It’s sparkly peach-scented soju. You look like the kind of guy to enjoy pink, bubbly stuff so I thought it would fit you.”

Taeyong, still dumbfounded but not enough to indulge Yuta’s teasing, let out a dignified scoff. “Yes, because you’re such a manly man.”

Yuta dropped himself in the over-the-top armchair as he let out an amused cackle. “Excuse you, I’ll have you know my friends call me ‘Mountain Man’.”

Taeyong grinned ever so slightly while taking a seat on the sofa, across from Yuta. The Japanese boy poured them both a glass of soju, even though Taeyong insisted that he didn’t drink. 

“I propose a toast,” Yuta lifted his glass, waiting for Taeyong to do the same.

“To what?” Taeyong asked as he mimicked Yuta, ready to indulge him as he had been doing since the day they met. 

“To the cashier who decided not to ask for my ID when I went to pay for the alcohol!” He proclaimed, clinking their glasses together before taking a large gulp of soju. Taeyong, however, only drank a shy sip before setting his glass down. “Let’s play a game!” Yuta proposed with his melodic voice as soon as he finished his drink.

“A game?” Taeyong frowned, confused. “What game?”

Yuta smiled mischievously. “Truth or dare.”

Taeyong looked at him like he had spoken in a foreign language. “What is that?”

Yuta’s eyebrows shot up so high his forehead became all scrunched. “You’ve never played it?” Taeyong shook his head. “The rules are very simple,” he reached into his backpack and pulled out a stack of cards. “We will set the cards in a circle in random order. Every turn, both of us will choose a card, and the one who has the biggest number gets to ask the question ‘truth or dare’.”

“And the loser has to choose,” Taeyong was getting the gist of it quickly. 

“Exactly,” Yuta started shuffling the cards. “For example, if you pull out the biggest number, I have to pick between truth or dare. If I choose truth, you get to ask me a question that I have to answer sincerely. If I choose dare, I’ll have to do whatever you decide.”

“And if you refuse?”

“Then I lose,” he started placing the cards on the table in a circle.

“And what does the winner get?” Taeyong was genuinely curious. 

Yuta thought about it for a while before answering, “a kiss.”

Taeyong squirmed in his seat uncomfortably. 

“Relax,” Yuta rolled his eyes. “I’m just kidding. The winner gets to sleep on the bed.”

“No, Yuta, you should be the one--”

“The winner,” Yuta repeated, his voice so firm and tense that Taeyong shut up immediately, “gets to sleep on the bed.”

Taeyong sighed, defeated. “Fine,” he resigned himself. Yuta flashed him a satisfied smile.

“Great! Let’s start.”

They both picked out a random card, holding it up to each other. 

“Eight of Spades,” Taeyong announced aloud. 

Yuta winked at him. “Jack of Hearts. I win!” Taeyong sighed; of course he did. “Truth or Dare?” 

Taeyong shrugged. “Truth,” he finally chose, mostly because picking truth allowed him to stay on the couch.

Yuta seemed pleased with his choice, if his smirk meant anything. “Very well. Who’s the cutest person in class?”

Taeyong blushed deeply and fiercely. He wasn’t expecting a question as incriminating as that one. If he chose Yuta, the boy could take it the wrong way, but if he didn’t, he could take it even worse. And if he chose someone Yuta liked or had dated in the past, the evening could quickly turn into a tragedy.

“Uhm,” the gears in Taeyong’s brain worked at light-speed to try to come up with a way to deflect the question.

“Oh, come on!” Yuta threw his hands up in the air in indignation. “This is just the first round and you’re already thinking of backing down? You’re no fun!”

“Okay, okay!” Taeyong gave in, if only to cease Yuta’s whining. “I guess… I don’t know anyone well enough--”

“I’m asking about looks, Taeyong,” Yuta interrupted him, exasperated. “You don’t need to know a person to find them attractive.”

Taeyong nodded, trying to remember the name of the boy who sat to his right in class. It was the first person who came to mind, the one Taeyong found himself looking at the most, perhaps simply because of convenience--after all, he was in his direct line of sight--, but it was undeniable that the boy himself was very nice to look at too, with his pink lips and sharp eyes. 

“I think his name is Jungwoo,” Taeyong recalled. 

“Oooooh,” Yuta sat back on his lovechair, as if he were a bad imitation of a therapist. “So that’s the type of boy you like.” He tapped his chin twice, pretending to be lost in thought. Out of nowhere, he slapped his hand on the table. Taeyong jumped in his seat, clutching his chest with one skinny hand. “Second round,” Yuta announced before stretching his arm to grab another card. 

“Two of Hearts,” Taeyong read his card. 

“Hah,” Yuta laughed evilly. “Six of Diamonds. Truth or Dare?”

Taeyong let out a frustrated grunt, but continued to play along. “Truth,” he picked again. 

“Hypothetically speaking,” Yuta started to speak, and the hairs on the back of Taeyong’s neck rose with fear. “If you were to have a list of the best looking boys in class, and Jungwoo is number 1… Where am I in this list?” Taeyong swallowed loudly. Yuta stared at him expectantly. “Well?”

“Third!” He shrieked in panic. “I’d say third!” He admitted before snatching his glass and downing it in one go. 

“Oh…” was Yuta’s reaction. Taeyong turned his head to look at him and found him deeply flustered, with a shy smile on his face. “I didn’t think Mr. Typical Classmate had it in him. I wasn’t expecting that, I’ll admit.”

“I thought I’d get it over with,” Taeyong shrugged, but his cheeks matched Yuta’s in color. 

The evening passed uneventfully, with only mundane questions being asked. Yuta behaved, respecting Taeyong’s boundaries and asking similarly boring things. 

Until, “Yes! Finally!” Yuta shouted, jumping out of his seat and dancing around the room. Taeyong stared at him in confusion. “Look,” Yuta showed him the card he’d pulled. It was the King of Spades. 

“What does that mean?” Taeyong asked, afraid of the answer.

“Pulling a King means obtaining the most powerful privilege: I get to ask you a Truth and give you a Dare.”

Taeyong’s skin crawled. “Both?!” He screeched, his blood running cold.

Yuta nodded fervently. He was holding the card like it was his most prized possession. 

Taeyong sighed tiredly, running an elegant hand through his dark hair. “Fine, go ahead.”

Yuta sat back down, tripping on his feet. He was more than tipsy now—outright drunk. His entire face was flushed and his gaze unfocused. He’d lost all coordination of his limbs, and Taeyong wondered how on Earth he would wake up the next day. 

“For the Truth, I want you to tell me what you find attractive about me,” he slurred, but his hazy eyes and sloppy speech made Taeyong’s insides flood with butterflies. “As for the Dare…” his eyes fell on the bed behind them. “I want you to carry me to bed.”

Taeyong gulped. His hands were sticky with cold sweat and his muscles were seized with tension. He considered backing down, refusing to play along with Yuta’s stupid mind games. Then again, Yuta didn’t have much more time to enjoy these games, did he? 

Taeyong slapped his thighs before standing up reluctantly and walking over to the loveseat in which his classmate was sitting. Yuta gave him a perplexed look, as if he hadn’t been expecting Taeyong to agree.

“Come on,” Taeyong extended his hand for Yuta to take. “It’s time we call it a night.”

Yuta smiled brightly before taking Taeyong’s hand in his and letting himself be pulled up. Before he could chicken out, Taeyong slid one arm behind Yuta’s knees and pulled him up in one swift motion. The Japanese boy let out a surprised yelp and wrapped his arms around Taeyong’s neck for leverage.

Wordlessly, Taeyong carried Yuta over to the bed. He was lighter than expected, even though Taeyong could feel some muscles under his cotton shirt where his hand was placed under the other’s ribs. The skin on Yuta’s legs was impossibly soft and pale, and the firm shape of his thighs made Taeyong’s face light up for the umpteenth time that day. 

Yuta giggled playfully behind Taeyong’s ear as the older laid him on the bed gently. As soon as their bodies separated, Yuta started rolling uncontrollably on the bed, covering his face with his hands and yelling nonsense. 

“Ah,” he exhaled once he’d calmed down, “I wasn’t expecting that.” His entire bust was tinted with pink, and his chest inflated and deflated dynamically. Taeyong thanked the gods for making Yuta forget about his earlier choice for Truth.

“We should sleep,” Taeyong announced monotonously, blocking himself from releasing all his pent up emotions.

Yuta shook his head childishly. “One last round.”

“You can’t even stand,” Taeyong argued.

“Then you withdraw a card for me,” was Yuta’s solution. “Pretty please?” He begged, looking at Taeyong with a pout and begging eyes. 

It took mere seconds of eye contact for Taeyong to give in. “Fine,” he growled as he walked over to the coffee table. “Should I just grab any card or…?”

“Near my glass,” Yuta slurred from the bed. “Grab mine from near my glass.”

Taeyong picked two cards, obeying Yuta’s order, and read them silently. 

Great. Yuta had won again.

For a fraction of a second, Taeyong considered lying about the turnout of events to save himself the trouble of having to answer Yuta’s prying questions or go along with his provoking dares. But as quickly as they came, these thoughts left his head, instead replaced by pity and empathy. He didn’t want to be that one guy who had tricked a dying boy. 

“You won,” he told Yuta truthfully.

“Truth or Dare?” Yuta asked in return. He was lying completely still on the bed, his arms stretched on his sides and legs gone limp. 

“Truth,” Taeyong picked, predictably. 

“If I told you that I’m scared to die, what would you do?”

The room became completely silent after that, almost as if time had come to a halt. Taeyong’s heart beat painfully hard inside his chest, like it was trying to break free from his chest.

“Dare,” Taeyong chose instead. His voice came out raspy and pained, as if he hadn’t used it in a thousand years. 

Yuta didn’t complain about his change of plans. “Come sleep in the bed with me,” was his dare. Taeyong had no option but to comply. 

Under the weight of his knee, the mattress bent as he crawled into bed, mindful as to not come in contact with any part of Yuta’s body.

“Goodnight,” Yuta whispered, his voice heavy with sleep.

Taeyong lifted his hand to turn off the lights. “Night,” he replied before turning around to face the wall instead of his sleeping classmate.

It was barely 8 in the morning when the sound of a popular girl group pulled Taeyong out of his already delicate sleep. Yuta awoke with a jolt, rubbing his face violently before grabbing his phone and answering the persistent call.

“WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU, NAKAMOTO YUTA?!” Doyoung’s panicked voice was audible without speaker mode. “Your parents just called me asking about you! You lied to them about going on a trip with me?!”

Yuta pushed the covers off of himself so he could sit on the side of the bed. Taeyong took this as a sign to start freshening up as well.

As he brushed his teeth and washed his face, he could hear Yuta’s voice through the bathroom door.

“Everything’s fine,” the boy insisted to his nagging friend. “No, I’m not alone,” he assured. “Yes, Mr. Typical Classmate. Agh, don’t be stupid! Yeah, wait a second. Taeyong!” Yuta called him all of a sudden. Obediently, he walked outside as he dried his face with a towel.

“What is it?” He asked, raising an eyebrow at Yuta’s stretched out hand.

“Doyoung wants to talk to you,” Yuta said as if it were the most common occurrence in the world. “Go on,” he shoved the phone in Taeyong’s hands, “you know he doesn’t like it when people keep him waiting.”

Taeyong sighed before holding the phone up to his ear, wondering what he’d done to deserve all this craziness. “Hello?”

“If you make a move on Yuta, I’ll kill you,” was all the other boy said before hanging up. 

“Well,” Yuta took his phone back. “Looks like Doyoung wants to murder you.”

“If I make a move on you, that is,” Taeyong clarified.

“Yes,” Yuta agreed with a wink. “Exactly.”

A couple of hours later, they found themselves in a tiny coffee shop outside of the station, waiting for their train to depart. Yuta sipped enthusiastically on his overpriced and far too complicated cinnamon latte while Taeyong enjoyed his simple green tea in silence.

“Let’s travel again!” Yuta flashed him a caffeinated smile. “Maybe during the winter? Oh, we could go farther up north!”

Taeyong shrugged. “Sure, that would be nice.”

Yuta’s smile morphed into a shocked gape. “Huh, you’re being honest for a change. Does that mean you had fun?”

“I did,” Taeyong answered truthfully. “It was… enlightening.”

Yuta’s face turned a deep shade of red before he reached out and clasped his hand around Taeyong’s wrist.

“Hey!” Taeyong yelped. “Are you trying to take my pancreas forcefully?”

Yuta snorted before letting go of the other boy’s hand. “Sorry, sorry. I just got fired up because you were being unusually honest.” He shook his head as if that would get rid of his ardent blush. “In any case, I must say that I had fun too,” he winked at Taeyong. “You have a few tricks up your sleeve.”

Taeyong hid his own blush behind his tea.

膵臓

The following days after the trip were confusing ones for Taeyong. He could feel a shift within himself; something inside him had begun to grow, and he couldn’t identify it. It was new, intense, and exciting, but it also scared the hell out of him.

He wondered what it could be for days, trying to distract himself with books or television, until the slightest buzz from his phone had him running across the room to see if he had a new message.

It was then that he realized that nothing had changed about his daily life, except for the fact that he was eagerly awaiting Yuta’s next call.

**Author's Note:**

> [my new twitter!!](https://twitter.com/doyonlyfans)


End file.
